Rush
by Cold Ember
Summary: Colby likes his vacations to give him more of a rush than his job does. Oneshot.


_This was a response to the All About Colby challenge on the SaveColby community on LiveJournal. I (still) don't own NUMB3RS despite my best and most devious efforts and thanks to my beta, prulhall, over on LiveJournal._

_Random side note: As it turns out, this is my 40th posted story here at . I just thought that I'd share, cuz that kinda excites me. But y'all probably don't care and you just want me to get on with the story. So, without fursther ado, here... we... go! (sorry, unable to resist The Dark Knight quote...)_

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Rush

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Colby looked out of the plane's window and sighed contentedly. He lived for these weekends that he got just to himself when he could go out and have fun without worrying about being called into work. This was his vacation, and though many of his fellow agents thought that he was insane for taking vacation time on two days that he had off anyway, but he knew that just because he had a day off didn't guarantee he would be called in and he wanted to ensure that he had this time to himself.

He looked down at the beautiful California Ocean, 14,000 feet below him, knowing that soon he would be down on one of those beaches, surfing and just enjoying the day. He reveled in the feel of the wind against his face and grinned when the co-pilot gave him the thumbs up, indicating that he was good to go. He got up and made his way to open door on the other side of the plane and sat down again on the edge so that his legs were hanging out of the plane. He looked down at the ground below and felt a rush of adrenaline before leaning forward and dropping out of the plane, freefalling back towards earth. He loved the rush of it, the feeling of hurtling back towards the planet.

He had only a minute to enjoy his free fall before he had to pull the chord to open his chute. He always wished that the minute would never end and that he could just keep falling forever. But he couldn't, because if he didn't pull his chute, he'd be an Idaho pancake, and that would be bad. Mostly because he would be damned if he was gonna die with David still owing him money.

He savored the moment of absolute bliss, the moment where everything was right with the world and nothing else mattered. When he jumped it didn't matter if he had spent the previous week investigating a brutal murder and that he would likely spend the following week doing the same. All that mattered was the jump, nothing else. This had been escape during his undercover mission. Because when he jumped that didn't matter either. The entire rest of the world went away.

The air was cold as it rushed past his bare arms and legs, making him feel alive. He always wore shorts and a muscle shirt when he jumped because he loved that feeling of the air flying past him. It was exhilarating and the best feeling in the world. David and Don had both, on occasion, expressed their belief that he was insane for enjoying the act of throwing himself out of a plane, but he didn't expect them to understand. It was something that one had to experience for themselves. It was kind of like trying to explain sex to a virgin; it simply didn't work.

When it becomes time, he reluctantly pulls his chute, lamenting that his brief moment of Zen has come to an end so soon. He felt the jerk of the chute as it opened, stalling his downward progress so that he was now floating leisurely down towards earth. Much though he regretted losing the thrill of his freefall, he also had to admit that he loved being able to look down at the city from above. It seemed so much more beautiful from up high where he couldn't see the crime and poverty and everything else that was wrong with the City of Angels. From here it was perfect, sunny Los Angeles.

He did a few circles before aiming for his designated landing spot on the beach. He touched down and his parachute collapsed around him, engulfing him within it. He pushed it off and detached it from himself before sitting down in the white sand and carefully repacking it. He would, of course, repack it again later after he had a chance to remove all the sand, but for now he just needed it in the bag, but he didn't want to rip it because it was a new parachute and frankly, parachutes were expensive.

Once he had finished he made his way over to his car that was sitting in the parking lot across the street and deposited the bag in the trunk before grabbing the other bag- the one that contained his beach essentials- and slung it over his shoulder. He pulled his surfboard off the top of his car and made his way back to the beach, surveying the water. It was perfect. The waves were beautiful, the water was clear blue and there was hardly a cloud in the day. It seemed that Mother Nature had decided to be extremely cooperative on his day off. He couldn't have asked for a better day.

He stuck his surfboard in the sand and dropped his bag next to it before pulling off his shirt and letting it fall to the ground next to his bag. He had worn his swim shorts for his jump so that he would be able to go straight from the dive to surfing without having to stop to change.

He pulled his board back out of the sand and jogged down to the water, enjoying the spry of ocean water that hit his face as his board hit the water. He felt the rush of the waves against his skin and he basked in the glory of it all.

He liked his vacations to give him more of a rush than his job did and this one had certainly fit the bill perfectly.


End file.
